Sacrifice
by CSIBradley
Summary: When a New England drug cartel king, Stefano Gevalia's, underground trafficking bridges on the outskirts of Boston, how much will Detective Jane Rizzoli give in order to gain evidence to stop the senseless massacres that lay in his wake. *Mature chapters 6,7,8
1. Chapter 1

Rizzoli and Isles

When a New England drug cartel king, Stefano Gevalia's, underground trafficking bridges on the outskirts of Boston, how much will Detective Jane Rizzoli give in order to gain evidence to stop the senseless massacres that lay in his wake.

_Revised edition_

_Chapter 1_

Detective Jane Rizzoli swirled her cappuccino as she strode to her desk, her light blue scoop neck shirt tucked into her onyx slacks; the clop of her black boots echoing in the empty office. The morning crew staggered a few and far between. The appreciative lull in work allotted time for the brunette to finish the paperwork from their current case. She would have it completed within the day, earning herself somewhat of a weekend.

A weekend to Detective Jane Rizzoli meant spending time reviewing unsolved cold cases that had secretively plagued her with sleepless nights. How unjust she felt, having those Bostonians die in vain, left only as a memory and some face attached to a police file, stuffed in dark, cramped drawer.

Typing away at the computer, Jane continuously glanced at the residual files tucked under her handwritten report. Looking away, she typed a few more words before her attention floated back to the teal folder. Her long leg jimmied idly as she tired to talk herself out of looking at it.

Balling her hands to fists, she rolled her eyes, silently scolding herself for her inability to ignore the incessant itch to review the file.

Her brows furrowed in concentration as she opened and skimmed the text.

_Janell Adilson, age 15, killed in the line of fire for, in broad daylight on a crowded street, only 1 of the 3 supposed suspects arrested, seven months and no additional evidence had been found._

An overwhelming sense of remorse washed over the detective, her eyebrows turned in a grieved manner as she fought back the unconventional urge to cry. She traced a finger over the small photograph of the smiling teenager.

"Jane?" Maura's soft voice compassionately inquired beside her.

Tucking her chin, Jane rubbed the top of her eyebrow and casually brought her thumb to wipe the tear from her eye.

"I was, uh, just checking over something I had a thought on," Jane answered, her head still tucked. Out of the corner of her eye, Jane could see the brightly patterned dress maneuver itself into a chair and wheel itself closer.

"Your corrugator supercilii muscles are drawn medially and your lacrimal glands are releasing more than 2 microliters."

Jane paused unfamiliar technical word choices the doctor often used. Dr. Maura Isles was the only person who could be both incredibly empathic and scientific at the same time. Her hazel eyes searched Jane's face, as her own honey blonde eyebrows mirrored the upturned emotional strife previously portrayed by her colleague.

"Jane, why are you crying?" She asked, placing her hand on the detective's forearm.

"I'm not crying," answered the raspy voice of the brunette. She looked up and into the inquiring brilliance.

Jane Rizzoli already had enough shit for being a hard-ass; the last thing she wanted was the rumor 'Rizzoli's a softy' buzzing around the precinct.

Maura gave her a lop-sided sympathetic smile.

"Ok, why _were_ you crying?

"Geez, Maura," Jane pushed out of her chair and walked to the window. Maura followed without hesitation. She remained silent for a moment.

"It's a perfectly normal human function."

"Yeah well, knowing that some girl died under my watch and I couldn't do her justice..."

"You're allowed sadness."

"No Maura," Jane projected angrily, "self-pity doesn't get me the perp," her voice quieted as it broke lightly, "and it sure as hell doesn't bring her."

"Jane, you are a great detective, you can't bring this upon yourself."

Jane wrapped her right arm across her mid section and propped her elbow on her wrist, bringing her left fists against her lips.

"How many of those files do you have?" Maura asked.

"Fifteen."

"Oh, Jane, I'm sorry." Maura stepped closer and brought her hand to the detective's back in a comforting gesture.

The familiar rumble of Sergeant Detective Vince Korsak's laugh filled the floor as he and Detective Barry Frost entered the office area.

Jane shifted slightly pulling her shoulders back, while Maura's hand dropped to her side. The detective wiped the remnants of moisture from her eyes and inhaled deeply.

"Well good morning, Doc." Frost greeted her.

"Good morning, Detective. Sergeant."

"Rizzoli," Korsak said. She waved still facing the window.

"What has the two of you here so early?"

"Well, actually I was just leaving."

Jane spun on her heel.

"You've been here all night?"

"Yes," the medical examiner answered matter-of-factly. "I was finishing paperwork and brought up some of the tox results from the case. I need to head out here shortly."

"What's the occasion?" Jane asked.

"There's a traveling piece of the French Impressionistic Movement I've been wanting to see. It's a couple pieces of Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Camille Pissarro, and Claude Monet."

"That sounds wonderful and I hope you enjoy your day, Doctor Isles," Korsak said.

Maura smiled and glanced at Jane. Jane smiled discretely in return and walked back to her desk.

"Enjoy you day detectives." Maura glanced one last time at Jane before turning and eloquently striding in her heels, out of the office.

"What's on your mind, Janie?" Korsak asked, stepping closer to her desk, reaching for a file. His chipper smile slowly diminished once her opened the file, recognizing the case and the young face smiling back at him.

The disgruntled turmoil cases like this caused rose in his stomach for a moment. This explained Jane's recent behavior. Angered by his own vexation, Korsak looked at Jane, his cool demeanor now tense.

"Why is this out?" Korsak nearly spat. Detective Frost looked apprehensively between the two.

"I, just had it out. You know, pretty much done with one, on to the next."

"Damnit Jane, you can't compromise yourself like this."

"I'm not compromising, I'm reviewing!"

"You're ruining yourself. I've seen too many great detectives, cops, forensic doctors let things like this eat away at them until there's nothing left." He grabbed the file. "I will not let do this to yourself."

"Do what?" The dark haired Italian detective-in-training asked. Frankie's impeccable timing added to the tension. Neither of the heated detectives acknowledged his question.

"Come on, Korsak, you're overreacting."

"Me? Overreacting? I'm not the one looking at these unsolved cases, prying at unanswered questions. You have to learn to let go."

Frankie leaned to Frost. "Did I miss somethin'?" Frost held up a hand, politely informing him to keep quiet.

"Letting go is quitting, I never quit," Jane hissed. She grabbed her jacket and stormed off, mumbling, "I'm going for a walk."

Korsak sighed heavily, turning away from Frost and Frankie. Frankie looked at Frost, silently begging to be informed. Frost looked down to another file on Jane's desk. Frankie's eyes followed and briefly read the text.

"Oh," Frankie said in a melancholy fashion and frowned.

"Come on, let's get some work done," Frost said, turning back to his own desk, tapping Frankie's arm.

"'Kay."

* * *

The fresh early spring morning was a comfort to Jane as she walked briskly along the street. She inhaled deeply and exhaled the last of her shaky breaths. Running a hand through her hair, she closed her eyes as the breeze played with a few of her long dark strands. As she came to the end of the block, her stride slowed to a laggardly pace, her mind lost in the memories.

_Jane sat in the driver's seat with Frost at her side for surveillance; both watched the crowd in the street; hastily searching faces, looking for a matching suspect, whether it was his face or the clothes he would be wearing. Jane looked down briefly as movement behind them caught her eye. _

_ A man crouched beside a car parked further down the street. Shifting in her seat, Jane leaned over trying to see what he had in his hands. The man stilled._

_ "What the-" She whispered and craned over her left shoulder._

_ The instantaneous shattering of glass followed the piercing gunshot._

_ Frost and Jane both ducked, unholstered their guns, and listened. The resonating ringing made it difficult for Jane to find her balance. Leaning up slightly, she checked the passenger mirror. She could see the metallic shimmer of a gun in the man's hands, pointed at the crowd._

_ "Shit."_

_ Without hesitation, Jane threw the door open and fired._

_ The sound of gunshots rang throughout the street._

_ Her initial shot barely nipped the shooter's shoulder, knocking him to his back. Yet the shots continued, and with the ringing in her ears, Jane couldn't tell from which direction they were coming._

_ She threw herself in the side alley, hoping to avoid the raining fire. But it was everywhere. The distance crack of the triggered white-hot gun power, the echoing acoustics resonated down the street and through the alleyway. The detective could practically feel the bullets whizzing by her. _

_ The wounded gunman was pulled into the vehicle he had crouched behind. The engine revved as the driver threw it in reverse. The truck jumped the curb and turned 180, the tires screeching as it peeled off down the street._

_ As the world began turning again, the petrified silence broke with the screams of a woman, cradling her child, covered in blood._

This scene was often a reoccurring scenario in Jane's dreams- her nightmares. She had replayed it so many times, each time hoping to change the outcome, hoping to preserve the innocent life sacrificed by her negligence for procedure.

It wasn't too much longer before Jane found herself at the young woman's headstone. Somewhere along the way, the detective had picked up flowers, which she placed on the marble slab. Lowering herself to the ground, Jane crouched as she spoke.

"Hey, I uh, I know I don't normally do this, but I'm going to catch the men who did this and to others like you. Your death won't be in vain, I promise," the soft rasp of her voice carried off into the wind as she rested her hand on the stone.

Standing, Jane looked out over the rows of headstone and reflected.

Those who had come to rest before their time deserved a voice, vindicating one last moral endeavor, bring those of vile ways to justice.

Jane was their voice; this was her job, her difference to the world.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

The cool evening air gently pushed Jane along as she walked to the doors of the Dirty Robber.

After finishing her paperwork, Jane had placed the files back into storage and decided a cold beer was the perfect way to unwind.

Entering the bar, she stopped, guilt-ridden from her morning actions upon seeing the Sergeant. Her shoulders slumped slightly and a sad apologetic smile formed on her lips. Korsak's firm blue eyes stared unwavering at the brunette detective in the doorway. There was a moment of uncomfortable rawness between the two. Just as Jane was about to turn on her heel and leave, Korsak nodded his head, ordering her to join him, Frost, and Frankie.

The lanky detective sheepishly shuffled to the table.

"Listen, I'm sorry about this morning," she began.

"No," Korsak lifted his hand to interrupt, "I'm sorry. I just care about you too damn much."

"Aww that's so sweet," Jane cooed mockingly as she plopped down next to Korsak. She nuzzled towards him.

"Yeah, yeah," he laughed lightly and pushed against her.

"Will you buy me a drink, kind sir?"

"Don't push it," he jokingly chastened before signaling to the bartender for a cold beer.

"Thanks Korsak."

"For what?"

"Everything." The two share a smile before glancing at the entering patron at the door. Jane cocked her head to the side; her brown eyes glimmered ever so slightly as a jovial grin spread across her face.

It took only a moment before the blonde medical examiner stood at the foot of their booth, her hazel eyes still glistening from the pure joy of her cultural extravaganza.

"Hey there Picasso, are you lost?"

Maura pouted with an upturned smile, "I was hoping for an evening with my friends." Maura looked to each of the faces at the table and back to Jane.

"Plenty of room, Doc." Frost said as he and Frankie scooted further into the booth. Jane watched as the Maura slid in across from her.

As the waiter brought Jane her beer, he asked the Doctor if she cared for anything.

"A glass of champagne please," the blonde asked politely. She glanced at Jane before getting lost in conversation with the guys at the table.

* * *

About an hour, a few more rounds of drinks, and several embarrassing stories, later, five of Boston's finest decided to call it a night. Parting in their usual manner, they filed out of the booth slowly and took their own timely leave.

Once outside in the night air, a sudden urge for a late night walk struck the tall brunette. Stopping just beyond the door, she looked up to the abyss that surrounded her from above.

"What are you thinking?" Maura asked, searching Jane's face as the brunette stared up at the sky.

"I'm kinda in the mood for a walk." She looked down. "Wanna come with?"

The blonde smiled and the two began a slow stroll along the sidewalk. Walking step for step, neither of them spoke for a while, both simply enjoying the other's company. Sometimes feelings or thoughts didn't need to be put into words, they were plainly understood, and two women took comfort in those silences.

They walked once around the block, their pace still slow, Jane scuffing her foot along ever so often while Maura walked languidly next to her. As the reached the door to the Dirty Robber, Maura broke the silence.

"How are you doing?"

"Better," Jane answered.

"Will you be alright?" The blonde asked.

"Yeah, I think so."

Jane slunk her hand into her pocket, retrieving the small key ring.

"Looks like our stop," she said in a soft tone.

There was a lingering pause as neither of the women made an attempt to part.

Jane looked warmheartedly at Maura, the medical examiner's soulful gaze intently staring at the hood of the car, clearly lost in her own world. The detective could see the gears turning, a blank pout on the blonde's face. Jane leaned farther into her field of view, trying to break the trace. The hazel pools, which could coax anyone to jump in, shifted to meet the midnight irises. A gloomy haze settled as Maura tried to keep the next words from leaving her mouth.

"It must be hard."

"What?"

"Dealing with both life and death."

Jane searched Maura's eyes.

"It's what I'm suppose to do," Jane answered, grinning a bit. Maura's eye lightened and she smiled.

"Goodnight, Jane."

"Goodnight, Maura."

Slowly, the two women parted.

* * *

The bright morning sun slipped through the curtains and warmed the face of the sleeping detective. With a sleep-laden groan, Jane covered the pillow over her face.

"Not yet," she mumbled into the down, rolling away.

A vibrating clattering on her nightstand informed her of an incoming call.

"Rizzoli," she groaned.

"Jane," Korsak sighed heavily into the phone. Jane sat up in her bed.

"What is it, Korsak?" Jane asked troubled.

"We have one."

"I'll be right there."

* * *

Jane pulled the police cruiser to the curb and parked. Stepping out, Detective Frost and Sergeant Korsak met her with somber faces.

"Great way to start Sunday, huh guys?"

Frost gave her a frown.

"What do we have?" She asked as they stepped under the yellow police tape. A despaired undertone possessed Frost's dark features, while Korsak eyes embodied sullenness reserved for the darkest of causes. Jane felt a phantom punch in the gut, rage and misery clawing free.

"Oh no," she rasped discouraged.

The body lay slumped against the brick-face storefront, the man's business shirt stained with the crimson hue of blood. A stream of crusted blood covered the man's front, having gushed unceremoniously from his mouth.

"God," Jane cursed under her breath.

The clack of approaching heels signaled the arrival of the medical examiner. The four-inch, dark navy, pumps swiftly passed the three detectives and came to stop at the body.

"The man's Edward Yults, corporate the Sandur Inc. Shopkeeper called it in about an hour ago," Korsak said.

Prying gently at the deceased jaw, Maura peered into his mouth.

"The lingua is completely severed, massive blood lost due to the laceration of the lingual vein," she stated. "Contusions on his wrists and ankles indicate restraint."

"So he was held down while he bled to death," Jane hypothesized.

"I won't know the cause of death until full autopsy. There isn't enough blood here for an explicit generalization."

Jane rolled her eyes at the medical examiner's stubbornness for methodical accuracy. She ran her hand through her hair. Maura prodded the body further, inspecting for every minute piece of evidence.

"Rigor mortis suggests the body was positioned here. Time of death about 5 hours ago.

"Ok, so he was killed somewhere else."

"Is there a metallic coin?" Korsak asked.

The already tense and doleful atmosphere became incredibly thick, each individual glancing at Korsak momentarily. Jane expression changed, displaying her internal concern. _You have got to be kidding me_.

Frost bent to check the pockets. He shook his head.

"Nothing in the pockets."

"Maybe it's not him," Jane said under her breath, her eyes meeting Korsak's.

"God, I hope you're right."


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

Practically throwing two boxes onto her desk, Jane made quick work of retrieving the other two from next to the elevator.

"Hey," Frankie greeted her, "Need a hand with those?"

"Actually yeah, I do." Jane answered, hastily shoving them into his hands.

"Rizzoli!" The curt reprimand of Lieutenant Cavanaugh stopped her before she could make her escape.

"Shit," she hissed to herself, "Yes Lieutenant?" she asked ignorantly.

"Sergeant Korsak just informed me of the case matter." He stepped closer. "Stefano Gevalia?" he hissed as not to be overheard. "If the press gets a whiff of this, you'll have the entire East coast in a frenzy. Unless you have conclusive evidence that this is him, you better take those back downstairs.

There was a pause.

"Do you, Rizzoli?" He raised his voice.

She challenged him, unwilling to admit the answer; their eyes engaged in a battle for dominance. Cavanaugh turned on his heel.

Exasperated, Jane threw her head back, displacing the urge of chucking the closest object across the room.

The black phone on her hip vibrated. Pulling it free, she clicked open the text from Maura.

"We do now."

* * *

Bursting through the doors of the autopsy room, Jane quickly approached to the doctor, Frankie following close behind.

"What do you have?" Jane asked, coming to stand next to the table.

"I found a white substance coating the internal nares.

"Cocaine," Jane said.

Maura pursed her lips, "I haven't gotten tox back yet."

"Yes, yes of course, what else?"

"He experienced massive blood lost, I'd say about two and a third liters, at the least.

"C.O.D. blood lost then."

Maura shook a gloved finger at her.

"His lungs were saturated with blood, indicating he was still alive after the extraction of the tongue. A torture and mutilation method ancient Romans utilized, it even dates back to ancient Greek mythology-"

"Later that same day.

Maura scowled.

"I'm sorry, Maura, it's just. Please continue."

"It probably took three or four minutes of him gasping for breath before he died of asphyxiation."

Jane bit her lip in an atypical fashion. The look on Dr. Isles face turned, her eyes mirroring that of the young detective's from earlier in the day.

"I found this in his stomach," she said gravely, holding out a small evidence bag.

A crude image of a scythe embossed on an unpolished metallic coin confirmed Jane's worst fear.

The hazel pools reflected the internal terror like that of the midnight irises. Maura swallowed back the rising fear.

"Thanks, Maura," Jane said morosely. "Come on, Frankie."

Jane grabbed her phone from her belt as the two raven-haired Rizzoli's made their exit.

"It's him, isn't it?" Frankie asked.

"Yeah," Jane answered, her voice barely above a whisper.

* * *

Maura watched, crestfallen, as the two made their way down the hall, her even temperament struggling behind unexpected tears in her eyes. Even after all the traumatic hardships she and Jane had experienced, the immanent turmoil and terror of this dangerous pursuit left the doctor fearing for Jane's life more than ever before.

Sniffling, Maura ripped her gloves away fervently to wipe at the now, streaming moisture.

* * *

"Korsak," the Sergeant's voice sounded in the phone.

"It's him," Jane said.

"Son of a bitch," he cursed to himself. "We'll look for the usual."

"Ok," Jane said. "Frankie and I are going to go through the files to see if we can figure out his next victim."

"What was on the coin?"

Jane looked down at the key piece of evidence in her hand, flipping it.

"A scythe and on the opposite side a strange pattern of sorts, I'll send you a picture." Jane flipped her phone and snapped a picture of the coin. A tone sounded on Korsak's phone. He opened the picture mail. Frustrated, Korsak shook his head and clenched his jaw. Frost's phone beeped and opened to the image.

"It means the next killing is random."

"Thanks Korsak, I'll call you if we find anything else." She hung up and looked to her brother.

"You have no idea how serious this is," she said contemptuously.

"Hey, give me some credit. I know what's going on," the officer said, pressing the up arrow.

"Do you now?" Jane chastened.

"Hey, I'm on your side."

Jane pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. The elevator dinged and opened.

"We have to inform Lieutenant Cavanaugh, then search through countless files for any connections, maybe it's a symbolic reference to his next victim, maybe past."

"Jane," Frankie extended his hand out and softly grasped her upper arm, his eyes beseeching.

"I wanna help. Okay?" Jane smiled despite the misery. She nodded her head.

The doors opened, revealing Lieutenant Cavanaugh, a tense apprehension knitted on his brow.

"Glad I didn't wear myself out taking down those boxes," Jane quipped.

"Damnit Rizzoli, this is no time for jokes."

"It wasn't a joke," she snarled, walking past the flushed man. Cavanaugh shot Frankie a look. His nostrils flared before he puffed and hurried back to his office to begin the string of statutory phone calls no man ever wanted to make.

* * *

The sun dipped low in the western sky, casting a warm amber hue through the office. The warmth, however, was short lived, the atmosphere laden with unspoken consternation for every passing minute. More boxes from the basement cluttered the homicide unit's office. Stacks of files littered three desks while another dry erase board created a barricading wall. Jane sat Indian style on the floor, files encircling her in a daunting manner. Frankie sat at her desk, flipping through a teal folder, photographs and evidence in a pile next to him. His cheeks puffed as he let out a large exhale.

Jane knew with every minute, every second, they were losing precious time. She felt utterly helpless. For the past seven hours, they had managed to read only a third of the files, scan over a few random pieces of evidence, and neglect lunch, in hopes of finding some sort of lead.

It was unlike Jane to stumble upon a path only to discover a dead end, to be trapped within the office while the floodwaters came rushing in.

A navy pump came to stand within her peripheral. The smell of Chinese and the familiar floral scent of an expensive perfume- masking the subtle stench of decomposition- pervaded Jane's senses.

Looking up swiftly, the brunette's tired eyes fell upon an angelic figure, illuminated by the evening rays. The soft waves of seraphic honey-blonde tresses shimmered against the benevolent pools of liquid hazel, which resembled that of temperate butterscotch. A gentle smile graced the doctor's pink lips, the luminescent white ruffled blouse adding to her hierarchical ambience.

The tensely furrowed, ebony eyebrows of the detective softened with relief as gratitude washed over her. The constricting mat that smothered Jane's lungs vanished and for the first time that day she felt as though she could breathe; air rushing to fill her lungs, lifting her from the uncomfortable solid ground. Everything stilled as the radiant figure extended her pale hand in an offertory gesture, presenting a plastic container of sustenance.

"Thanks," Jane uttered in lieu of kissing the feet before her.

Maura smiled again before floating over to Frankie and handing him a container.

"Hunger causes hyperactivity in the hypothalamus, triggering insulin to store glucose; the body becomes lethargic, fatigued, muscles twitch and weaken, and mental functioning becomes impaired- recent studies indicate up to 43%." Deftly the doctor removed her navy pumps, exposing the oxblood coated toes, and lowered herself to the floor, touching the edge of Jane's paper circle.

"The hippocampus and temporal lobe lose the ability to encode or decode incoming information, or retrieve stored portions." Her toned legs extended as she pressed her back against the desk. She rolled her ankles, then pointed and flexed her feet. Sighing contently, she looked to the officer then to the detective, her own container resting in her lap.

"Thanks, Dr. Isles," Frankie said enthusiastically before diving into his chicken chow mein.

"You're welcome," she said, and then looked to the detective. Their eyes locked, twinkling, unable to fight the reciprocal magnetism. Two genuine smiles mirrored each other, dimpled and apple cheeked.

They ate in a comfortable, warm silence.

By 11:18 that evening, the three remained engross with the countless reports and files, desperately searching for anything. Frost and Korsak having added to the stacks of interviews, bank statements, newspaper articles, and medical records.

Frankie rubbed his face, the stubble of his five o'clock shadow slightly rough against his tired hands. He paused before throwing the file onto the desk.

"Janie, I'm sorry." He rubbed his eyes. Jane gave him a small half-turned smile.

"Don't be," her voice hoarse with exhaustion. "Go on home," she looked at Maura, "both of you."

"No, I'd like to stay," Maura insisted softly. Frankie stood and stretched while approaching footsteps in the hall grew louder.

"You better not be setting up camp, Rizzoli," Lieutenant Cavanaugh said in a hushed yet stern tone.

"Actually Lieutenant," Maura began. She stood slowly due to her stiff legs, or perhaps due to the form-fitting, chic pencil skirt that hugged her hips and outer thighs. "We were just calling it a night." Maura smiled down and outstretched her hand to pull Jane from the waters in which the brunette had found herself. Jane's slender fingers slid into the opened palm- velvet against silk- and the nimble fingers grasped her securely as Jane rose effortlessly to her feet.

Cavanaugh nodded, stepped to the elevator, and clicked the down arrow.

"Are you going to be alright?" Frankie asked.

"Yeah," Jane smiled assuredly, trying to convince both Frankie and herself.

"Goodnight, sis." He pulled her into a quick hug before trotting to the elevator, joining Cavanaugh for the trip down.

Jane sighed heavily, turning away, and stretched her neck, her eyes closing as she centered herself. Maura slowly approached.

"Jane," her voice thick with compassion.

Dr. Maura Isles knew Detective Jane Rizzoli. The detective would flash her big brown eyes in a feigned honesty. She would lie and say she was going home, that she'd get some sleep and tackle this feat tomorrow, that she was fine. She would use her persuasive, soothing husk to convince the doctor not to fret and that everything would be okay.

Maura's hand came to rest against the warmth of Jane's back.

"I have a cold six pack."

"You better have two," Jane spoke, turning to meet the closeness of the blonde.

"I might." The hazel twinkled.


	4. Chapter 4

_ Chapter 4_

The dim light from the chandelier above the dining table softly illuminated Maura's living room. The pale eggshell drapes drawn across the windows offered a pseudo-barrier, protecting and concealing those housed within while preventing the outside world from entering. Both women knew the fragile barrier could only last for so long.

Three empty beer bottles sat on the coffee table. Jane nursed her third while Maura swirled the fermented hops of hers; their lacking interaction made up by their closeness on the couch.

Maura took a sip; the tawny liquid fizzed against her lips and tongue, tickling the back of her throat as she swallowed. She was desperate to offer aid, yet troubled with a sense of inadequacy, unsure as how to provide such support for the resilient, nonetheless stubborn, woman who sat next to her. Tapping the neck of the bottle, Maura watched as the brunette stared pensively at the flower vase on the coffee table.

Past visions played in Jane's mind.

* * *

_Darkness._

_The detective strained to hear over her labored breath. Every nerve was alive, on edge, ready to react to the slightest stimuli. She held her gun upward, prepared to shoot when necessary, slowly creeping down the hall._

_ The metallic tinkle of a coin rolling across the concrete floor spooked the lanky detective. She pointed the gun in the direction of the approaching sound. _

_ Closer and closer the coin rolled. _

_ With a soft thud, the coin collided against the black, patent leather toe of Jane's boot. She held her stance, pointing her gun into the darkness, the eerie silence ringing in her ears. Crouching slowly, she reached for the coin; gun still aimed. Picking up the strangely warm coin, Jane slipped it into her pocket. _

_ She had barely straightened her knees before it happened._

_ The swift jab of the gun barrel against her lower back caused her to gasp; a set of hands grabbed her wrists preventing her from turning. Panic washed over her body, settling in the pit of her stomach. _

_ "Please," she cried frightened, relinquishing the grip on her gun._

_ With a forceful heave, the invisible mass shoved Jane against the solid wall. She cried out in pain. A cynical titter breathed in her ear. The blunt impact evolved into a compressing weight, her body held tightly against the wall. The barrel continued to press sharply into her back as a stray hand touched her body._

_ "Please," she pled._

_ The crack of the gun exploded in the silence._

_ Several more shots rang out._

_ Jane screamed._

_ Silence._

_ She shook, paralyzed with fear, the weight gone._

_ She heard nothing, saw nothing, but felt the looming presence leering at her, a tympanic tension building._

_ She cringed in hostile anticipation. A warm trickle of blood streamed down her cheek. Her pulse raced. She panted._

* * *

"Jane," Maura cooed with perturb.

Jane abruptly looked at the blonde, the internal horror etched on her face. She puffed a shallow breath. Jane closed her eyes and clenched her jaw, fighting to control her emotions.

Maura reached out slowly to brush a strand of raven hair from her cheek.

"Jane," Maura cooed softer. The nimble fingers gently stroked the satiny locks in an uncharacteristic manner. The softness threaded between her fingers elicited another stroke. Jane's brow softened, Maura continued, each stroke soothing the both of them.

"Make it go away," Jane beseeched. She opened her eyes, revealing her raw emotion. Maura paused, momentarily surprised by the request. She smiled sadly as cortisol pumped into her bloodstream. It felt as though a vice cinched her heart.

The same hand, which rescued Jane moments ago from her drowning waters, cupped the brunette's cheek. Both welcomed the additional warmth.

That hand, it was a miraculous object, capable of unworldly transcendence with its agile dexterity yet tender and soothing nature. Something Jane would never forsake.

Maura swiped her thumb gently over a faded scar on Jane's cheek, the faint prominence tickling her slightly.

Her blonde eyebrows creased in anguish as she watched a single tear roll down the olive cheek. She would do anything or give anything to protect Jane from danger, from despair, from heartache. Protecting Jane was her only goal ever since she had met the snippy, yet delightful, detective.

"Like you always do," Jane added. Her dark pools reflected the earnest truth of her words.

The surge of epinephrine through Maura's body caused her heart to race, her palms to sweat, and the feeling of helplessness to vanish. They were the only two in existence as the world around them stopped. There was no concern for the next few moments, for tomorrow, or for the rest of their lives.

An overwhelming desire to kiss the brunette caused Maura to choke on a surprised gasp. As the hormones flooded through her body, Maura realized that she was hopelessly and desperately in love with her best friend, Detective Jane Rizzoli.

"Come here," Maura's voice was barely above a whisper.

Maura shifted to extend the length of the couch, her arms gently pulling the brunette to her as she laid back.

"Studies show that infants with anxiety become more relaxed when they listened to the mother's systolic and diastolic fluctuations, as well as the subtle resonation of the gastrointestinal tract. Anxiety levels in adolescences and adults have also been shown to lower when exposed to these sounds as well," Maura absentmindedly spouted as she pulled the blanket from the back of the couch.

"And that means?" Jane asked as she scooted up Maura's body, coming to rest on her side, wedged comfortably between the couch and the warm mass of Maura.

"Listening to a heartbeat and stomach gurgles will make you feel better." Jane grinned and snuggled against the blonde.

"Here," Maura said, "rest your head near my 6th intercostal, right here on my sternum." Maura gently guided the mane of raven curls to rest on her chest.

Jane flinched slightly at the haunted pressure.

"Do that thing with my hair again." It was a polite command, not a question.

Without hesitation, Maura's fingers began to work their wonders. Jane sighed and closed her eyes, accepting the deviation from their typical cathartic drinking session. Maura brought her other hand behind her head, propping it so she could comfortably gaze upon the brunette against her chest. Jane reached across Maura's abdomen and hugged her, fearing separation if she did not actively cling to her blonde haven. The faint whoosh and feather-like pulsations of Maura's heart lulled Jane to a calm state and before long into a pleasant slumber.

Maura scrutinized the woman in her arms, unable- unwilling- to give into sleep before the entirety of the moment was forever engrained into her memory. How the weight of the brunette felt against her frame, the steady rise and fall of Jane's chest with each breath, how the slender arm comfortably draped across her midsection, the svelte fingers earnestly clinging to her hip, and the subtle scent of lavender mingling with perspiration.

Hazel glided over the curvatures of the detective's face, across her strong jaw, button nose, and thin lips. Maura watched the wrinkles of stress and plagued concern fade from the heroine as she drifted deeper into a peaceful, uninterrupted sleep. In a silent prayer of gratitude, the doctor closed her eyes as she committed the last scene to memory, a smile on her lips.

* * *

The unexpected shrill of both mobile devices callously awoke the two women from their pleasant slumber.

Jane opened her eyes, blinking; her body snuggled against the blonde, her face still pressed against her chest. The sweet scent of Maura greeted her followed by a sleep-laden groan. The blonde shifted, pressing herself into Jane.

"Maura." Jane requested the noise stop. With a grunt, the medical examiner reached for her phone on the table behind the couch.

"Dr. Isles," she answered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Doc," Detective Frost's gloomy voice greeted her. There was a pause. "We got another one."

"We'll be right there."

"Hey, Doc?" Frost spoke with an underlying sincerity.

"Yes?" Maura asked as she played with the raven curls on her abdomen.

"Don't let her out of your sight."

"Never."

Maura hung up the phone and cooed to the sleeping woman in her arms.

"Jane," she nudged her, "Jane, sweetie, come on."

"Wha-" Jane asked, lifting her head.

"We have to go to work now."

"Ok, you go shower, I'll wait here." Jane placed her head back on Maura's warm chest. Maura chuckled once despite the seriousness of their current situation. Slowly, Maura slipped from the couch, allowing the detective to lie for a few more moments.

As Maura's footsteps faded, Jane inhaled deeply and pushed herself upright. She blinked a few times, ran her hand against her face, then through her hair. Grabbing her phone, she opened the text from Frost.

_NE Madison, 10-54, S*G_

_ S*G_

The coded anagram punched made her cringe. Her stomach churned over itself. How could she have allowed it to happen again?

She quickly sent a text message back. _Be there in 20. _With a large exhale, Jane leaned forward and placed her head on her hands.

"Jane?" Maura asked, startling Jane.

The brunette turned to Maura, who was dressed in a pair of black yoga pants, a forest green workout top and a matching jacket, standing in the doorway.

"Are you ready?" The blonde ponytail bounced when Maura cocked her head.

Jane sighed again, "Yeah."

* * *

"What do you have?" Maura asked as she and Jane stepped under the police tape.

"Appears to be a double homicide, hopefully a real case opener."

As they rounded the corner of the alleyway, they met the scene of a man sprawled haphazardly on the dirty ground. His clothes wrinkled and covered in large blots of blood.

"This one's Jason Mayler," Frost said. "Found his id, and personal effects. He," Frost cleared his throat," he was a person of interest in a case about a year ago."

Maura bent down to examine the wounds. Reaching a gloved hand to the blots, she noticed the subtle convex nature the cotton-polyester blend shirt had over each wound.

"Huh," Maura said.

"Is that an 'I found something' huh, or 'does not compute' huh?" Jane asked. Maura shot her a glance.

"There's a patterned wound, I won't know the details of it until I can examine the body back at the lab."

"How long has he been here?" Frost asked, the stench catching up with him.

"The beginning of decomp indicate a day and a half, maybe two."

"So, he was killed around the same time as our first victim?" Jane asked.

"I couldn't give you a conclusive answer," Maura said.

"Maybe he's not the second victim," Korsak interjected. Jane looked to Korsak, then Frost.

"You'll want to see this," Frost said gravely.

The four of them walked farther down the alleyway, coming to the back loading dock of a vacant building. A younger man slumped against the large cement column, a pool of blood beneath him.

"John Doe, about thirty," Korsak said.

Within the pool of red sat half a dozen coins.

Jane approached the victim, putting on a glove, and knelt to the pool. She picked up a coin.

"Are these victims in play?"

"Doubtful," Korsak answered. "Doesn't fit the profile. I bet he's from inside."

"These must have been his targets." Jane pointed to the coins and studied the scene before her. She was unsure whether they were making progress or being blindly choked around by their necks. Frost held out an open evidence bag.

"Can we get this processed and a team on them, see if they can decode the images. We already have most of the files out." Frost nodded.

Jane's brown eyes wandered over the dull silver coins. Her eyebrows furrowed, among the silver, a brass orange coin. Picking up what resemble that of a large penny, she examined the embossed images. On one side was an X, intersected by three parallel lines, on the other side, a crudely etched bird.

She handed the coin to Korsak.

"Someone of importance?" he asked.

"Coin's material may indicate that. It has in the past," her gravelly voice answered.

Maura peeked over Korsak's shoulder.

"Copper."

"Kinda looks like it, Doc," Korsak said, palming and flipping the coin in his hand.

"No," Maura pointed to the X design. "That's the alchemist symbol for copper, well, sometimes Venus."

With her habitual, unsolicited utterance, Maura had single-handedly unlocked and opened every vault within Jane's mental case repository. The detective's mouth fell open, her eyes wide in an epiphanic stare as she looked at the medical examiner. So many things made sense.

"What?" Maura inquired.

"Frost, get a BOLO out on Gerald Crow, now."

Frost's dark eyes met Jane's in a questioning manner.

"The head engineer for the bay's foundry for water sanitation?" he asked in a perplexed tone. The significance of Frost's words brought Sergeant Korsak to the same startling realization. Korsak looked at Jane with disbelief.

"Son of a bitch."


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

With a second wind, Jane bounded through the lobby of Boston Police Department Headquarters, with Maura matching her step for step. The cool interior spared only momentary relief before the elevator doors opened to reveal Lieutenant Cavanaugh.

"Rizzoli," his curt voice pierced the lobby.

"Cavanaugh," she answered.

"Upstairs."

The lanky detective looked to the blonde, a flash of concern laced on both their faces.

Jane's bounding strides slowed as she approached the second set of elevator doors. Maura came to stop at the first. She pressed the down arrow and then looked over her shoulder as the brunette entered the harshly lit metal compartment with the Lieutenant. A tiny grin tugged at her lips as Jane stood with the confidence of a soldier; a stance most male detective's envied. Her heart fluttered.

Jane watched the blonde with unsuspecting eyes, her head held high and hands clasped behind her back. The swift closing of the disdainful metallic doors unknowingly foreshadowed future circumstances neither woman was ready to experience.

"Am I in trouble sir?"

Cavanaugh lifted his arm, freeing the obtrusive shirt from his underarm.

"No," he growled softer.

They remained silent.

The doors open. Cavanaugh stepped forward and directed Jane to the conference room.

"Are we having a surprise party?" Jane asked; eyeing the two men in suits standing outside the door. Cavanaugh acknowledged her sarcasm with a cold stare and still remained silent. He opened the door and followed in behind.

"Detective Rizzoli," A tall, slender man in a gray suit addressed her.

"Mr..."

"Agent Vosberg," The blonde man said as he turned.

"The CIA," Jane mocked. "Really Cavanaugh?"

"Zip it Rizzoli."

A sly grin tugged at the man's lip. "Please have a seat," he gestured to the chair.

Jane watched as his hand lingered in a showcased fashion as he presented the photographs and files fanned along the table. Unsettled by the array, Jane sat slowly into the chair. Immediately, she recognized the image on the grainy black and white photo.

"Stefano Gevalia, what do you know about him?" Jane asked.

"Too much."

Jane scoffed, "Not enough." Vosberg looked at her. "Sorry."

"No," Vosberg said, "you're right. That's why we're here. We need your expertise of the Boston area."

"Why?" Jane realized he knew something she didn't.

"We have suspicions that he's working one last round before going back underground and overseas for the next five, maybe fifteen years." He slipped a photo to Jane. A figure knelt inside the Boston Cemetery at a tombstone, the figure's hair blowing in the wind. Though the quality wasn't the best, one could make out the solemn expression on the figure's face, on Jane's face.

Rage boiled through Jane's veins.

"You've been following me?" she spat angrily.

Agent Vosberg slid another photo to her. This one was of Jane exiting the gates, a second shadow figure following her from a distance.

"Watching out for you is more like it." Vosberg looked at Cavanaugh.

"We think you may be in danger, Rizzoli," Cavanaugh said softly.

She looked at him. "When am I not?"

Again, Vosberg presented another photo to the detective.

Smiling up at her was a familiar face she couldn't quite recall. The agent laid down another photo. Jane's heart stopped; 15 year-old Janell Adilson smiled up at her. She reached her hand out to trace the photo's edge, her face contorting in grief.

"Stefano," Vosberg said flatly. He threw another photo down. "Stefano." One by one the familiar faces stacked upon each other.

"Stefano."

_Another photograph._

"Stefano." _Again._ "Stefano."

"I get it!" Jane shouted.

"There's a reason these cases are cold," he said snidely, almost taunting.

Jane shot out of her chair and grabbed the flaps of Agent Vosberg's suit.

"You, son of a bitch."

"Jane!" Cavanaugh bellowed, surely the entire floor had heard him. She released the man's suit. Vosberg took a step back and straightened his appearance.

"They're all related, and you're the only one who's thoroughly gone through all of their cases. That's why we need you."

"What do you need?"

"For you to keep doing what you're doing, and let us know," Vosberg offered. His hazel eyes turbid compared to that of the medical examiner's. "It's like, you scratch our backs, we scratch yours."

Jane narrowed her gaze.

"Just don't get in my way," she hissed before storming out of the room.

"Charming," Vosberg said to the Lieutenant.

"She's tough," Cavanaugh defended, "But she's the best."

* * *

The harsh iridescent lighting caused Jane to grimace as the elevator doors opened to the basement. She walked quickly through the window maze to the autopsy room. Upon pushing the door open, her seething temper cooled significantly, nonetheless, her snappy retorts continued.

"The multiple lacerations on Mayler's chest were inflected post-mortem, there were traces of foreign material in the wombs. I just sent those over for analysis. His tongue was also extracted perimortem."

"Mmm, he looks like Swiss cheese, tell me, Doctor, does Pinot Noir pair nicely?"

Maura paused, still bent over the victim's body. Unappreciative of the remark, she gave Jane a stern scowl through her protective lab goggles.

"You can check the attitude at the door, Detective," Maura reprimanded the sassy brunette for her caustic transference. "And it would be a Merlot."

Jane sighed heavily and wiggled about like a small child throwing a temper tantrum. She growled in frustration for a moment before slumping her shoulders and pouting to Maura.

"The CIA is here."

"Really?"

"They want to offer their 'assistance' while using my 'expertise'."

Jane puffed childishly, whining, "I don't want them here."

Maura watched the brunette portray the array of temperament. She fought to conceal a tiny endearing grin. She returned her attention to the gruesome task before her.

"Agent Vosberg," Jane mocked, "told me all of my cold cases are related."

"That's a real case opener."

"They've been following me."

"Well, that seems rather extreme."

"Because somebody _else_ has been following me."

"What?" Maura asked alarmed.

Jane opened her mouth to share her additional information with Maura. She wanted to tell her this case, the one that had managed to settle under her skin, was because of Stefano. That her life was in danger because of this monster, and that she was on the verge of breaking down completely. Her throat tightened unexpectedly and she swallowed, trying to speak again. Inadvertently, she began to cry.

"Oh, Jane," Maura mumbled softly. Maura ripped away her gloves and pulled the protective, disposable sheath from her frame. Jane turned away from her, trying to diminish her sudden swell of emotion. She felt broken and exposed. She braced herself against Maura's desk; positive she'd find herself on the floor if she didn't.

Maura wrapped her arms around the crumbling detective, catching her.

Jane could no longer bare the unjust tribulations weighed upon her, nor could she bare the solitude in which she was forced to endure them; she had grown too faulty, too tired, and too weak. As the brilliant woman tenderly, yet firmly, embraced her, Jane realized she'd never have to endure them alone again, that she'd never _be _alone again. And in that moment, her sobs broke free.

The brunette convulsed silently in Maura's arms, her raspy and heart wrenching gasps peppering the exposed flesh of Maura's neck. She pressed tighter, trembling, letting go of everything.

Maura continued to hold her. She closed her eyes and cooed, consoling the fragile woman in her arms.

"Shh, I'm here Jane."

Her hand wove itself into the raven mane of curls.

"I've got you. "

Maura planted a kiss on Jane's temple. She began to tremble herself. She kissed her again then spoke, pulling Jane closer. "I'm here."

Jane nuzzled against her neck. Maura swayed them slowly and patted an unfamiliar rhythm on her back.

With a shaky inhale, Jane held her breath for a moment and then exhaled heavily, her violent breathing quieted. She rubbed her cheek and nose against the soft, warm skin of Maura's neck. They continued to rock back and forth, pressed against each other, Maura's fingers sweetly stroking Jane's head.

They could each hear the other's breathing in the quietness of the room. Maura could feel the flush of Jane's cheek as Jane leisurely brushed it against her neck. She swallowed at the unexpected sensation but didn't pull away.

Jane continued to nuzzle her. She turned her head slightly to brush her lips against the satiny skin. Languidly, she dragged her bottom lip along the taut flesh; her moist breath searing Maura's skin. Maura gasped.

Jane had never experienced the intensity she and Maura currently created. She had never felt such electrifying touches, nor smelled the overwhelmingly, pleasurable aroma of Maura so distinctly. She opened her eyes, ascending Maura's neck. She paused, glancing at the slightly parted lips, before meeting the half-hooded brilliance of hazel. Her midnight irises returned to the pouty lips, while hazel danced in anticipation. She couldn't deny Maura.

Jane's thin lips brushed against Maura's lush pink ones confidently, yet scarcely. The delicate touch sparked a flame and ignited a fire between them. Jane brushed against her lips again and then captured them with a gentle suck. Their eyes lulling shut as she lingered, neither of them moved. Released her with a small smack, Maura quickly captured her; a hand threading into raven locks pulling her closer. The detective's long arms snaked themselves around Maura's neck. She opened against Maura's mouth and captured her again. Their kissing was slow, tender, and passionate. It disclosed their unspoken truth; that what was between them, was love.

They continued to kiss, never breaking contact, each adding pressure intermittently. Their warmth and sweetness mingled amongst the suckling and pressing, as the kiss lasted. Hands stroked and clung to the other, heated breaths tickled sensitive skin.

Jane pulled away first, but made her lips linger against the kiss-swollen pout of the doctor. Maura brushed her lips against again. Jane pressed her forehead to Maura's, engaging in an Eskimo kiss, vacillating whether to return to her lips.

The vibration on Jane's hip broke their trance; nonetheless, they kept their foreheads touching and eyes closed. They puffed heavily in the silence.

"That's Frost," Jane rasped more than usual, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I know," Maura said before she urgently captured the Jane's lips again. Jane exhaled in surprised, pressing eagerly in return. Jane spoke, a delicate break of suction preceding each word.

"I," _kiss. _"have to," _kiss_. "go," _two kisses. _"Upstairs." _Kiss._

"I know," Maura murmured against her lips. _Kiss._

"We have to," _kiss_ "stop."

"I know." They engaged in another tender kiss.

The door to the autopsy room swung open.

"Maura!" Frost's called. Jane pulled away and tucked her head against the blonde.

"Oh, I, uh."

"Yes, Detective Frost?"

"We found Mr. Crow's car."

"She'll be right up," Maura answered.

"Actually," Frost spoke. Maura peeked over her shoulder. "We need you too." The dark detective met Maura's gaze. "I'm gonna," he gestured over his shoulder, "yeah."

"We'll be right there."

The door closed behind him. Maura petted Jane as she emerged from hiding.

"Better?" Maura asked as she searched the midnight. Jane nodded. Maura stole another quick peck before stepping back.

"Let's go."

Jane nodded again.

"Are you..." Jane asked quietly. Maura cocked her head to the side. Jane nodded toward the autopsy table.

"Oh, he's not going anywhere."


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6_

The small caravan of Boston Police and Forensics Unit cruised along the highway, engine's revving; no need for sirens. Korsak and Frost led the pack, followed by Jane and Maura in the detective's police cruiser, with the forensics and corner's van tailing the end.

The two women sat in a comfortable silence. Jane, attentive to the road, held both hands on the steering wheel, while Maura looked out the window. She rubbed the black threads of her yoga pants. Humming an unknown melody, her eyes swiftly followed the passing architecture.

"What?"

"Huh?" Maura asked, turning to the brunette.

"You're humming."

"Huh, I am."

Jane grinned, Maura smiled, their eyes twinkled.

Jane's phone rang. She put it on speaker.

"Yeah Frost?" Jane answered.

"Harbor Patrol noticed Crow's car off pier 53 this morning, they called in for a tow. Luckily, our man, Moe, listens to the police scanner. He had the harbor check the plates and called in PD. Officer on scene found a John Doe not far from the car."

"Have they started processing the car?" Jane asked.

"Nope. PD heard you were working the case. They haven't touched a damn thing."

All four shared a laugh. There was a pause.

"If uh,-"

"Frost?" Jane interrupted him

"Yeah?"

"We're close," Jane said with determination.

She could hear him smile. There was an understood silence. Jane reached for her phone and hung up. She reached over and touched Maura's knee.

"So close," Jane said, reassuring the both of them with the swipe of her thumb.

* * *

The short drive landed the team on the neglected piers of the Boston Harbor. They parked along the cement ledge, sparing themselves the agony of maneuvering through the narrow passageways, mostly littered with residual cargo crates and old, worn-down machinery. The overpowering salty stench caused the detectives' to grimace in disgust; Maura simply stated the current along these piers caused runoff to accumulate. Their shoes clunked in a variety of pitches as they walked along the wooden pier.

"He made sure he couldn't be seen," Jane hypothesized, no one would drive back here unless there was a good reason.

"Think he was meeting our John Doe?" Korsak asked.

"Probably," Jane answered.

Passing a large crate, the four found their young John Doe in an all too familiar, blood-covered slump

"Man," Jane murmured.

"It doesn't get any less gruesome," Frost said.

Maura approached the victim, pulling a purple glove over her hand.

"Massive blood loss due to the extraction on the tongue." Her hand traveled across his chest.

"Appears to be two puncture wounds, one through the sternocostal head of his pectoralis major, another here on his anterior trapezius.

"Gunshots?"

Maura shook her head. "The damage to the flesh indicates a very sharp circular instrument.

"Like a spear?"

"I'd have to run comparisons for sure."

Jane nodded, her attention reflected inward. She turned and looked at the black Chrysler. She eyed the unseemly car, a familiar intuition churned in her gut; she narrowed her gaze. The other three watched silently as brunette began gravitating towards the abandoned vehicle. Jane peered into the car, a bag of metallic coins rested in the cup holder.

Maura noticed the pocket of victim's shirt creased due to a hidden weight. She reached her fingers into the pocket. Just as her fingers grazed past the seam of the opening, the detective's raspy voice shrieked in a panicked realization.

"Oh God, pop the trunk. Pop the trunk!" She hollered to the officer. Korsak, Frost, and Maura sprinted to her side.

The officer placed the lock zipper against the opening and with a quick press and crank, the trunk unlocked and opened.

The suffocating stench of decomposing flesh wafted out of the trunk with an intensity that even repulsed Dr. Isles to a grimace. Frost heaved once before turning away and losing the coffee he had recently consumed. Jane and Korsak gagged and covered their noses. Maura breathed through her mouth. She looked at the body.

"How long does it take for that to happen?" Jane asked mortified, her voice muffled by her sleeve. Maura eyed the material of the suit the puffed body.

"A week," she pulled at the collar, "oh."

"What?" Jane asked.

"The skin under his clothes has advanced decomposition compared to that of his face and hands."

"You think he was covered in something then thrown in the trunk?" Jane asked.

"Maybe," Korsak said, "he was taken for a swim before he was shoved in there.

"Is that possible? Could that water do this?" Jane asked Maura.

"Cases prove contaminations or high concentrations of Ph increases decomp rates. So, yes it's plausible but I won't know-

"Until [I've] you've run some tests," they said in unison.

A new pair of footsteps grew louder as the person approached.

"Jesus," The blonde agent hissed as he peered around into the trunk.

All but Jane looked at the man with a perplexed expression.

_Who the hell was this guy?_

Jane rolled her eyes.

"You're a little late," she criticized.

Korsak and Frost shared a confused look of annoyance while Maura scrutinized the man in an untrusting manner. He wore designer sunglasses; a gray Armani suit that was too pristinely pressed, with sterling silver cuff links, an all too flashy accessory. He removed his sunglasses, revealing his hazel eyes laden with a deceptive benevolence all four could see through.

_He must be CIA_, Maura thought.

"What, no coffee Vosberg?" Jane quipped.

The agent grinned and looked to the other three.

"Sergeant," he nodded, greeting each on by their title, "Detective." He grinned lasciviously, "Doctor."

She glared at him, her eyes and lips thin with displeasure.

Vosberg looked down at the body again.

"God damn," he puff and brought the back of his hand to his nose. "Is that Crow?" Vosberg asked.

"Yeah," Frost answered.

"I'll run dental records just to make sure," Maura said turning away, reaching for her kit. Jane glanced over at Maura and did a double take as she noticed Vosberg watching her. It was Jane's turn to glare at him.

"I'll process the bodies and then I'm heading back," Maura said to the clan, but mostly to Jane. The brunette nodded and watched as the blonde retreated to the John Doe. Korsak and Frost stood their ground.

"Sergeant Korsak, Detective Frost, Agent Vosberg," Jane apathetically introduced the agent. Korsak took a step closer and puffed his chest slightly.

"We're helping wind down this silly goose chase," Vosberg stated.

"You call this a goose chase?" Frost's voice was resentful.

"Poor chose of words," Vosberg tried to redeem himself, throwing his hands up in a surrendering gesture. Jane rolled her eyes and looked back into the trunk. There was a beat.

"Oh my God," her voice was a lower murmur. The three men turned her.

"What?" Korsak asked.

"They're backwards."

"What is?" Vosberg asked.

"The killings," Jane covered her face in disbelief. "They've been killed backwards. The- the coins, they we're for who was _going_ to be killed."

"They were already dead," Frost finished.

* * *

Jane threw open her apartment door. Five murders and they were back at square one. Never in her career had a case been so difficult. After working the scene for more than five hours, which resulted in no significant findings, Jane wanted nothing more than a beer, a shower, and the confines of her apartment, or Maura's house.

She grabbed a beer from her fridge and twisted off the top. The liquid fizzed down her throat as she drained a fourth of the bottle in one glorious gulp. Her phone rang.

"Rizzoli," she answered.

"Open your door," the low rasp commanded.

"Vosberg?"

Two taps on the door.

Slowly, Jane opened the door, phone still pressed to her ear. The figure before her stopped her in her track.

A lanky, slender man, with long raven hair and piercing brown eyes greeted her silently, his thin lips remaining placid. Her mouth fell open. It was as though she was looking in a mirror.

Vosberg chuckled on the line. The man extended both hands offering a leather jacket and a cup of coffee to the detective.

"Take them," Vosberg whispered in her ear.

"What is this?"

"An invitation," Vosberg answered. "Join me, please." Jane glared skeptically at the man before her. "I have much to tell you," crackled in the line. There was a pause before she leaned out the door. "You may bring your gun, your badge, your beer if you like." She looked at the man standing in her doorway.

"You're watching me?"

"No. But I didn't flag you as a wine connoisseur... He is though." Jane knew Vosberg was referring to Stefano. Without a second thought, she grabbed the jacket from the man's hand.

"Don't touch anything, Lurch," Jane murmured to her doppelganger.

"Miss," the man's gentle voice stopped her. He extended the coffee to her. She took the cup from his hand, the dark eyebrows of the man upturned and a small curve graced his lips, a genuinely assurance that oddly eased Jane.

As she emerged into the night air, Jane scrutinized the cup.

"Apologies," Vosberg's voice came from the darkness. He stepped into the light on the sidewalk. Jane looked at the man perplexed.

Vosberg's authoritative strut had relaxed to a languid stroll, his hands tucked into his pockets. He wore dark wash jeans and a loose t-shirt. His hair was messy and the dim light made his stubble look thicker that it had hours before, when he had left the crime scene. His turbid pools of hazel were now brilliantly clear and shimmering with pity.

"You look good in leather," his voice was soft, almost tender, like that of a lover. Jane was no longer angry, bemused, albeit confused.

"I want to show you something." He turned and opened the Mercedes' passenger door. Jane cautiously approached the agent.

"I don't ride with strangers," she murmured, surprised by her faux coquettish tone.

"Richard," his tone was suave.

"I never trust a Dick," Jane husked while slipping past the man and into her seat. Richard Vosberg grinned and chuckled as only a man could.

* * *

The obnoxious hum of the blow-dryer filled Maura's upstairs as the warm air blew onto her scalp. The honey tresses shimmered in the light as each stain dried. She looked down at her phone resting on the sink. It remained silent. With a sigh, she turned off her dryer and brushed her hair. She looked at her phone again. She hadn't spoke to Jane since she had left the crime scene. The detective promised she would call the blonde if she needed her. Maura was beginning to believe that _she_ was the one who needed Jane, not the other way around. Maura vacillated on whether or not to call her.

The line hummed.

* * *

Jane reached over to her phone. She looked at the screen and smiled sadly and clicked ignore. Richard glanced over to the brunette.

"Open the glove compartment."

She didn't turn her head as she glanced over at him. Slowly, Jane reached out and opened the compartment. Attached on the inside was a small black flip phone.

"How bad do you want to stop him?"

Jane looked at the blonde man; he kept his eyes on the road.

"What are you offering me?"

"Awareness," he answered. "Knowledge." The car rolled to a stop right where they had started, outside of Jane's apartment. She removed the phone from the clamp.

"For a price," Vosbern added. Jane contemplated throwing the device back into the compartment and getting out of the car. "I don't need an answer now," he continued. Jane held the phone.

"What's the cost?" she asked.

The tone in which Vosberg spoke made Jane question everything about him, "I'm sure you can establish a payment plan."

Jane glared apoplectically at the man next to her. She knew the cost of that.

"Go to hell," she hissed opening her car door. In a huff, she stood and slammed it shut. Without looking back, she stormed up the stairs to her apartment.; her doppelganger no longer present. She burst through her apartment door and ripped the leather jacket from her torso. In a surge of pure fury, she flung the jacket across the living room. The leather and metallic toggles clapped against the wall with a muffled smack. The metallic bounce and shimmer of a coin falling on the floor stopped Jane cold her tracks, a wave of terror crashed over her. Beside the heap of leather laid a gold coin.

Jane hesitantly approached the object, as though it were to explode. She crouched to inspect the embossed imagery, which was far superior to the previous coins. The symbol of Moses' last plague, the death of the first-born, embossed the gold. She picked it up and flipped it over, the scars on her hand ached. On the opposite side was the depiction of a Boston police badge, a railroad spike driven through its center.

Her chin quivered and a shiver ran down her spine.

This was her coin.

* * *

The road blurred past her eyes, the engine revved as the gears shifted for a faster speed. The fragile hand ungripped and regripped the steering wheel tighter each time. She couldn't recall when she had gotten in her car, or how fast she was going. One moment she was in her bathroom, the next she found herself standing at her door. With a trembling hand, she knocked, her heart pounding in her chest. She knocked again, louder. Her body shook. She reached up again, but the door opened. Troubled waves rippled through the hazel pools.

"Jane, are you alright?" Maura asked with great concern, opening the door wider.

"No," Jane rasped, a visible tremor stealing her voice. The brunette stood trembling, paralyzed with fear, her olive complexion pale. The icy chill lingered in her legs, a nauseating churn settled in her abdomen, while her throat clenched and her chest tightened. She gasped for a breath and began to shake harder. She had never been so scared in her life.

"Oh, God, you going into shock," Maura grabbed her, closing and locking the door behind her. She turned and wrapped her arms around Jane.

"I need you to breathe Jane," Maura guided trembling woman down the hall. "I've got you Jane."

Jane clung to the resonating sound of Maura's voice calling her name as they staggered up the stairs to blonde's bedroom.

"I'm so cold," Jane mumbled faintly.

"I know baby," Maura cooed, as she maneuvered to her bathroom. With one hand she opened the shower door and turned the water on full blast, with the other she held the shivering woman. The doctor reached a hand in to feel the water temperature; steam began to fill the bathroom. The brunette grew heavier in her arms. Looking down to her, Maura gasped, Jane's thin lips were turning blue.

With a heave of desperation, Maura pulled both of them into the shower, collapsing against the titled wall. The hot water immediately rained against their bodies. Jane continued to shiver, her eyes closed and teeth chattering. Maura held her protectively, tightly as they slid down to the floor.

"It's ok, Jane," Maura cooed into her ear, rocking her gently. She kissed her temples and wiped away the matted strands of raven hair from Jane's face. "I'm here Jane. I've got you."

Enveloped by the solid and raining warmth, Jane's body began to relax. Her breathing came in pants instead of shallow gasps; a healthy flush began to cover her cheeks. Her tremors lessened. Maura still held her, peppering her face with sweet kisses, whispering to her. It wasn't until her symptoms of shock dissipated, that Jane was able to cry. It wasn't a fit of screaming, wailing, or whimpering, just an endless flow of tears, washed from her face, forever mingling with the water of Maura's shower.

Maura wrapped her right arm around Jane's upper abdomen, while her left hand pulled Jane's legs in; bring the brunette to face sideways in Maura's lap.

"I can't have you breathing in the water," Maura said. Jane opened her eyes for the first time and looked at the sodden woman beside her. Her blonde tresses laid dark and flat, clinging to her face. The hazel pools brimmed with adoration. Jane slipped an arm around her and buried her head in the crock of Maura's neck.

"I love you," she whispered against the wet flesh.

Maura's heart burst, overwhelmed with emotions. She brought her left hand to cup Jane's face, nuzzling against her.

"Jane," Maura murmured, "I love you." She closed her eyes tightly. She kissed the brunette's forehead. Jane's embraced tightened. Maura gasped, the pearled teeth of the detective gently sunk into the tender flesh of her neck. Jane sucked. Maura hissed; her initial concern shifted to a new intention.

"Get me out of my clothes," Jane pled. Maura nodded, the cascading rain suddenly felt incredibly erotic on her skin.

The cotton fabric of Jane's shirt clung to her body like a second skin. The navy saturated to a black, fighting to relinquish its hold on Jane. With a loud plop, the material landed on the shower floor.

Maura looked at the woman in her arms, her color pink and her eyes alive. Jane gazed back. Finally she was safe, protected, loved. She couldn't restrain the urge to tell Maura, to show her, to share was she was feeling for the blonde. She looked at the pouty pink lips. They were hers.

Maura welcomed the kiss as Jane immediately sought entrance to the hidden sweetness. She parted her lips and allowed Jane to plunder, to tantalize, to tease. She moaned, threading her fingers in Jane's hair.

Their bodies were assaulted with sensation, the hot massage of the shower, and trickles of water on their skin, the heavy cling of clothing, and the heat of the other, the softness of wet skin. They moaned.

Maura pulled away.

"Can you manage to soap up?" she asked.

Jane nodded. They kissed again.

Moments later, the two found themselves wrapped in turquoise towels. Maura pressed herself to the tall brunette.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked with a lower purr.

"I will," Jane retorted, equally as low. Maura kissed her shoulder, pressing her into the vanity. Maura kissed her neck, her hands finding Jane's hips. Jane closed her eyes and lost herself in the touch, the greatest gift Maura possessed. The lips kissed her jaw. Jane exhaled, her body reacting to the touch. Maura's breath tickled her lips, Jane reached out to touch capture her. They were soft, supple, inviting. The terrycloth rubbed against Jane's hardened nipples. She moaned.

Maura brought a hand to the edge of the towel, barely grazing the skin of Jane's thigh with her fingertips. Jane gasped, her arousal pooling faster that ever before. Maura's lips kissed the tops of Jane's breasts.

"Maura," Jane groaned.

The terrycloth slipped away, roughly brushing over Jane's sensitive skin.

"I'm here, Jane," Maura cooed, traveling down the brunette's chest. Her lips captured an erect nub. Jane gasped; her hand wound itself in gold, the other sprawling against Maura's back. Maura cupped her, the moisture coating her hand. Jane moaned and rolled her hips. She pulled off Maura's towel. A single digit plunged into her core.

"Ah, Maura," Jane groaned.

Maura pulled away. Both Jane's nipple and core ached for attention again. The blonde blindly guided them to her bed as she planted kisses on Jane's chest. She turned them and slowly edged Jane to her mattress. When the back of Jane's knees felt the softness, they buckled. Her hands gripped Maura's hips, pulling the blonde with her. Their lips met in a fervent yet languid kiss. Jane kneaded the flesh in her hands, taken by the softness of the creamy silk.

Maura straddled her, arching and pressing herself more fully into the svelte, olive woman. Their breasts touched, nipples kissing. Jane pulled her closer, thrusting her hips. She could feel Maura's wetness. Maura thrust in return.

"I love you so much," Maura whispered breathily against Jane's cheek. "I want you to feel how much." Jane gasped as Maura's fingers found her pulsing core. "I want you to quiver," Maura kissed her neck, "and shake," her breast, "moan," her bellybutton, "and groan," the black curls, "scream my name in ecstasy from it." She knelt before the brunette, her breath tickling Jane's inner thighs. Jane watched in awe, eyes half hooded, cheeks burning red, panting.

Maura kiss her core. "I want to protect you," _lap_. "Hold you," _lap_, "Be with you," _lap_, "Touch you," _lap_, "Make love to you," _a suckling kiss_, "Worship you," _lap,_ "Everyday," _kiss,_ "Forever," _suck._

In a raspy cry, the white fire erupted from Jane's core and pulsated through her appendages. She gripped the damp tresses of honey as she rode the residual waves of pleasure. Her legs quivered as Maura's tongue continued to lap, like that of a kitten at an endless bowl of warm milk.

The suffocating wickedness of the world smothered the brilliant flame of Jane's soul and had once left her in darkness. But with Maura, she was set alight. Every secret crevice and hidden corner was illuminated with a radiance brighter than the sun. It was as though for the first time Jane was alive, truly and fully alive.

"Oh my God," Jane whispered gazing at the woman before her. The lustrous pools of hazel looked up. Maura could see the brilliance in Jane's eyes.

"Do you feel this?" Jane rasped. Maura lapped once more before rising to meet the brunette. Their eyes locked in an intense gaze. Maura took Jane's hand in hers. Both watched as she guided it to her chest, placing it over her pounding heart. Maura looked back at Jane.

"Here," Maura said breathlessly, "I feel you here."

Jane's lips fastened themselves hungrily to Maura's. The overwhelming desire to give Maura the joy the blonde had given her consumed the detective. Nothing was going to prevent Jane from loving this woman.

With a swift tug, the blonde found herself resting in the middle of her bed on top of a very driven, love-crazed woman. A woman whom had graced her sheets in forbade fantasies, many lonely nights ago. The olive woman nipped and tasted the creamy silk. Maura panted and moaned, Jane's hands touched and dragging all over her body.

"Jane," Maura rasped, eyes closed, body on fire. She could feel Jane smile against her chest. An erect bud disappeared into the eager mouth. She moaned and found the raven mane. She tugged. Yelping in surprise, strong hands lifted her, flipping their position, Maura on her back, Jane nestled between her legs, suckling on the flushed nipple. Jane's vigor grew, as did Maura's arousal.

"Mmh," Maura whimpered, arching into Jane. With a faint smack, the nipple fell from Jane's mouth, perking in the cool air. Jane found her other nipple. A hand came to the underside of Maura's knee, while the other came to the small of her back.

"Oh."

Her core rubbed against Jane. The hand behind her knee slowly caressed its way towards her backside. Maura rolled her hips, gooseflesh rising on her skin. She could still taste Jane on her tongue, she could still smell her, she could still feel her. Maura's breath hitched, the slender hand cupping the mound of flesh. Jane gyrated her hips.

"Yes," Maura hissed.

Midnight sparkled with mirth and arousal. The firm hand on Maura's derrière disappeared, she grunted as the loss.

"Look at me," Jane requested, her voice low.

Maura met the midnight. Two fingers filled her instantly.

"Fuu- ahhh," Maura moaned, craning her head back, firmly shutting her eyes. Jane wasted no time initiating a steady tempo; an abundance of moisture coated her fingers. Maura panted heavily, her body undulating. Jane's bicep flexed as she increased her pace. Maura gasped and grabbed at Jane's torso, her toes curling and pressing into her mattress.

Each passing moment wound Maura tighter and tighter. Her back arched and hips strained, as her muscles grew taut with her impending orgasm. Her constant mewls, whimpers, and moans only encouraged the rapid pace.

"Jane, I'm going.._._Oh, Jane," her voice rose in pitch. "Jane!"

The heel of Jane's palm pressed against Maura's core. Maura grabbed onto Jane's arm, anchoring herself as she shattered into a million pieces of ecstasy.

"JANE!" The erotic trill of her name as Maura came did wonders to her body. It was now a life's goal of the brunette to hear it as often as she could.

The blonde trembled beneath her, body flush, panting. A thin sheen of perspiration coated both of their bodies.

"Oxytocin," Maura panted.

Gleaming, Jane chuckled.


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7_

Maura awoke to the dim glow of the curtained window, the morning sun just beyond the horizon. The warmth of Jane covered her back as the tall woman spooned her, a toned arm intimately wrapped around Maura's waist. She smiled, her body still humming as she snuggled back into the comforting mass in her bed.

The white blackberry vibrated on her nightstand. Reluctantly, Maura answered.

"Dr. Isles," she answered sleep laden.

"Maura," Frost's deep voice spoke softly.

Maura sat up in bed, holding the sheet to her body.

"Yeah?"

"How is she?"

There was silence while Maura looked at the peaceful woman next to her.

"She's sleeping." There was a beat. "How did-" Maura turned away and lowered her voice, "How did you know she was here?" she whispered.

"Maura, you're the only one she would go to," Frost answered. Maura stood from her bed and retrieved her robe, shrugging it on before asking the next question.

"What happened?"

Frost exhaled on the line. Maura shuffled with unease to the doorway as Frost spoke.

"She called Cavanaugh last night. She took herself off the case...said she couldn't do it," his voice was low and even, forcibly so, Maura could tell.

"Oh," she said, crestfallen yet surprised. _Jane never quits a case._

"I know," Frost answered.

"I didn't know," Maura said barely above a whisper.

"Oh," Frost replied equally doleful and surprised.

Maura came to rest against the doorframe. She didn't know what to say.

"Maura?" Frost's voice was softer.

"Yeah?" She looked back at the sleeping form.

"You mean a lot to her," Maura turned away and covered her lips as a swell of emotion consumed her. "Trust me when I tell you that."

"Thank you, Barry," Maura managed to rasp.

"You're welcome," his compassionate voice spoke calmly.

Both Bostonians ended the call. Maura sniffled once and wiped away an errant tear that escaped. She gasped as a warm hand snuck around her midsection and she found herself in a warm, protected embrace.

"Hey babe," the deep husk brushed the edge of her ear. A shiver ran down her spine and settled in her core. The blonde gasped again, closed her eyes and leaned into the embrace.

"Oh babe," Jane rasped, bringing her lips to Maura's neck, "don't cry."

Maura reached back and pulled her closer.

"Why?"

"Why what?" Jane's hand slipped past Maura's robe, warm fingers danced along Maura's flesh. She covered Jane's hand, waiting for an answer.

"He wanted me to choose," Jane answered, pressing further. Maura gasped again, the wandering hand slipping lower.

"And I chose you." Jane cupped her and sucked on her neck.

Maura moaned as she reached out to catch herself on the doorframe. She shuttered as Jane began to tease her, the strong arm around her stomach keeping her from falling. Her other hand gripped the raven locks as her body began to tingle.

Jane's hand fell away from her heated core, Maura whimpered at the loss. She slipped from behind the blonde, kissing her exposed flesh along the way. Maura threw her head back in bliss as the warm lips traversed down her neck, along her collarbone, then her breast. Jane turned her and pressed her back against the doorframe. Its cool caress caused gooseflesh to rise on the blonde's skin.

"Jane," Maura hissed as she struggled to hold her footing, burying her hands into the unruly curls.

The rosy nipple slipped from Jane's mouth with a small pop.

"I love hearing you say my name," Jane husked. Heat pulsed through Maura's body. "I love how you make it sound..." Jane's hot breath tickled Maura's skin.

"Ahh," Maura moaned as the detective's tongue dipped into her bellybutton.

"As though I am the most important person in the world."

"Jane."

A shiver ran through the brunette. Her eyes lulled shut.

"Just like that," she lapped at the taut creamy flesh.

"Do you know what it does to me?" Jane rasped, kneeling before the doctor, nuzzling the thin strip of honey curls.

"Mmm," came a deep groan as Maura's legs quivered. Jane's hands anchored themselves onto the blonde's hips. Jane looked at the glistening sex before her, a heated blush rose on her skin. She couldn't resist to taste.

"Oh Jane," Maura cooed, the swift swipe of Jane's tongue caused more arousal to pool.

Impatiently, Jane's left hand came to Maura's knee and lifted the blonde's leg over her shoulder, exposing the doctor. Pausing for a moment, Jane allowed herself to take in the sight before her. The moist sex of the doctor, her shapely fit legs, the creamy plain of her stomach, full breast, and flushed face.

_I'm never going to get tired of this._ Jane thought. She swallowed, incredibly turned on by the woman before her. Slowly, she leaned in, inhaling the musky scent of Maura's arousal. Jane's mouth watered, she swallowed again, closing her eyes. Her tongue dipped into the sweetness.

"Jane," Maura moaned deeply, slipping slightly as her knees buckled. Jane lapped again.

"Ohhh," Maura moaned, the intensity just as powerful as hours before, if not greater. Jane lapped again. Maura retracted a hand from the lush ebony curls in order to cling to the doorframe, securing herself in place while pressing herself more fully into the worshiping detective.

Jane's pattern switched, her tongue began to swirl around the excited nub, earning a hiss of approval from the quivering blonde- her hips moving in a slow undulation.

"Jane," she panted, "Jane." Jane sucked for a moment. "Jane!" Maura shrieked, her left foot slipping. Two fingers filled her as Jane's lips fell away from her core. Maura cried out in pleasure at the sensation.

Jane's body suddenly pressed against Maura, catching her, their stomachs and pert breasts pressed together erotically. Heated puffs of exertion tickled Maura's flushed neck as Jane nuzzled herself against the blonde. A strong hand held the Maura's thigh as the other began a steady rhythm. Maura gasped and ground her hips to meet the thrusting fingers.

"I've got you," Jane whispered against the panting blonde. Maura swallowed. "I've got you like you've got me." Maura bit back a groan, her walls clenching at Jane's words, her hand grabbing the detective's backside, the other still on the doorframe.

"Nhh," Maura whimpered. "Not yet...Oh God, Jane..._Gasp_...Uuh...not yet." Maura's pants grew shallow, her head languidly writhing back and forth. "Oh...Jane...not yet..." Jane continued. "Jane," Maura rasped, "don't make me come yet."

The sheer arousal that coursed through Jane's veins caused a momentary lapse in motor function, which allowed Maura a moment to catch her breath. Jane groaned; pressing herself against Maura, her own knees giving way.

"You're going to make me come," Jane purred in her ear. Neither of them moved, unwilling to relinquish the moment, each woman painfully on the brink of orgasm, body tingling, heart racing, core pulsating.

"I love you, Maura," Jane whispered. She felt Maura's wall clench around her fingers again.

"I love you, Jane."

Jane pulled herself from the crock of Maura's neck and looked at the blonde. Her hazel glimmered with a dark olive hue. They were serene, so open that Jane could see Maura's soul. In gratitude, Jane began pleasuring the woman before her again.

This time, her thrusts were slow, full of doting compassion, filling Maura more fully than anyone had ever before. Her eyes lulled shut, pleasure contorted on her face. Jane watched, enticed, her svelte fingers massaging the wanton flesh of Maura's core. Each thrust slowly drawing along the swollen, wet flesh.

The red flush on Maura's skin accentuated the curves and contours of her body, spanning across her chest, along her neck, and over her cheeks. A thin layer of perspiration caused her body to glisten, almost glow.

"Oh God, Jane." Maura's core tightened.

"Yeah?" The deep rasped asked, the movement still constant.

"I'm so close," Maura panted.

"Yeah." Jane stated proudly. Maura swallowed and panted.

"Jane," Maura moaned. Jane couldn't keep her eyes open as her arousal rippled through her body. She moaned, resting her head against the blonde's shoulder.

"Oh God, Maura," she said breathlessly.

Maura shifted slightly against Jane, her talented fingers seeking the heated pool of Jane's arousal. Jane gasped. The tips of Maura's fingers grazed over the wetness, circling and playing with the aching flesh. Her own core pulsated at the sensation.

"Maura."

She plugged two fingers into the heat.

"Ohhh, Maura!" Jane groaned, pressing into Maura, Jane's fingers going deeper.

"Uh," Maura moaned at the sensation. Her body went rigid, her walls contracted around the slim fingers.

"Jaaaane," a deep moan escaped Maura's throat as her body began to tremble, her orgasm finally peaking after Jane's tender, languorous strokes. Her hand curled instinctually as she clung to a fixed state while the wave to crash over her.

Upon doing so, the blonde brought Jane over the edge, causing the detective's body to shake in ecstasy, releasing the tension she held within.

"Ahh, Maura," Jane moaned with an inward hiss. For a moment, their bodies shook together in bliss.

"Mm, Jane," Maura mewled, her voice hoarse from orgasm.

"This is a great way to start the morning," Jane spoke against Maura's neck. Maura's hand threaded into the waves of ebony and brought the thin lips to her own. They shared a tender, passionate kiss, their tongues dancing languidly. They moaned.

"I have to get ready," Maura said between the kisses, leaving the warmth of Jane.

"I know," Jane answered, capturing Maura's pouty lips again.

"I need to shower," Maura panted.

"I know." Jane kissed her again and began moving her fingers.

"Jane," Maura moaned.

"I know," Jane smirked into the kiss.

Just as quickly as Jane had started up again, she pulled away completely, leaving Maura with a sense of loss. She whimpered then groaned as she stood on her own feet.

"I'll get breakfast ready, you shower," Jane said as she gazed at the woman in front of her. Maura smiled, her heart fluttered.

"What have I done to deserve you?" The hazel searched the twinkling midnight. A smile unlike Maura had seen graced the brunette's face and the midnight shimmered with a brilliance that warmed Maura's soul. Her heart fluttered. Just the look in Jane's eye spoke greater than words themselves.

"I was gonna ask you the same question," Jane spoke in a deep rasp. Maura bit her lip as Jane's words settled in her core. _Words were good, very good._

Jane fought the urge to take the blonde again, hell she would take her the rest of the day. However, there were important matters to be attended to, results to be deciphered, bodies to be examined, and not her own.

Jane grasped the flaps of Maura robe.

"You won't be needing this," she said and pushed the silk fabric off Maura's shoulders and pulled it from her frame allowing her hands to trail along the creamy skin. Maura closed her eyes as Jane's hands rubbed the silk down her body. She was wet again.

Jane's name came in a breathless whisper. "If you don't stop..." Maura swallowed.

"It means no breakfast," Jane finished.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8_

Maura pulled the zipper up on her magenta dress and ran her hands across the tight fabric, smoothing away the imaginary wrinkles. She took a confident breath and looked in the mirror. Tossing the wave of honey over her shoulder, she smiled seductively and bit her lip. The smell of gourmet coffee and, was that pancakes, drifted in from the hallway. As she made her way down the stairs, the smell enveloped her; she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Rounding the corner, Maura stopped in her tracks as she watched Jane flip the skillet and catch the pancake on a plate. Her heart fluttered and a smile spread across her face.

"Get it while it's hot!" Jane said as she slid the plate to the edge of the island, fitting perfectly between the fork, knife, and heated saucer of syrup she had set out. Maura's smile grew brighter as she slowly approached the island, sauntering in a manner that caught Jane's eye. It was Jane's turn to smile.

"Jane," Maura purred.

"Ah," Jane held a finger and turned to the eloquent espresso maker, "pièce de résistance." Carefully, Jane turned, a coffee cup in hand. "Ta-da."

Maura chuckled, beaming. Jane brought the brimming cup to the doctor. The porcelain clanked and scraped on the marble surface as she placed it next to the plate. The air shifted as Jane came closer.

"M'lady," the brunette said in a low-husked voice, her eyes shimmering and a smile coyly tugging on her lips. Maura bit her lip, tucked her chin, and gave Jane the seductive glance.

"I couldn't possibly eat all of this on my own," Maura teased.

"I don't expect you too," Jane countered, stepping closer as Maura ran a hand up her arm. Jane snaked her arms around the blonde's waist. "Those are mine," referring to the plate of pancakes earned her a playful smack on the arm. Jane chuckled sultrily, running her hands up Maura's back. "And these are mine." Jane captured the full lips before her. Maura immediately deepened the kiss, her arms wrapping around Jane's neck.

Maura knew she had to return to the cold autopsy room and examine the four bodies they had discovered. She knew the deeper the case became, to more danger they found themselves in. But nothing else mattered when Jane was in her arms. Nothing else existed outside of the small space they shared, the intimate touches, and the love they immersed themselves in. For once, Maura found sanctity in the living, in the strongly driven, attractive, agile detective, Jane Rizzoli.

Maura kissed her more fervently at her revelation, her desire flaring to a new extreme. It consumed her with such intensity it caused her to shake. Her hands gripped the unruly mane and she moaned. Jane pulled back for a breath, surprised by Maura's eagerness.

"Maura," Jane hissed, the doctor's lips nipping at her pulse point. Jane moaned, eyes rolling shut, arousal rushing through her body. Maura's hot breath tickled her ear.

"Ти си невероватна, чини ми јебено вруће," she drew out each syllable, in a hot breath, grinding into Jane. Jane's mouth fell open in a silent moan. Maura made quick work of Jane's t-shirt and her hands cupped her unclothed breasts.

"Maur," Jane moaned. The pressing and swiping of Maura's warm tongue along her neck caused Jane's legs to buckle, she gasped and held onto Maura. One of Maura's hands swiftly slid under the waistband of her exercise shorts; a pair she had left at Maura's after one of their morning runs. Talented fingers met her arousal and made quick work. Two fingers entered her and her eyes lulled shut.

"Fuuuck," Jane hissed, head rolling forward. She inhaled deeply as her nose nestled in freshly washed waves. Her body hummed, lost in the sensation.

"Ти ме излуде," the Serbian dripped from Maura's lips like honey, her fingers moving quickly. "Желим ти луд."

"I have no idea," Jane panted, "what you're, _oh God,_ you're saying." Her calf muscles flexed as her toes pressed into the floor. Maura pressed her body against the slipping brunette. Maura pulled back, eyes twinkling, and watched the pleasure play out on Jane's face; a smug grin on her lips. She didn't slow her pace.

"Ја ћу морати да променим свој доњи веш," the medical examiner's voice purred, her thumb circling the excited bundle of nerves, her two fingers still moving against Jane's g-spot. Jane bit her lip and groaned. She began meeting Maura's strokes, aiding in the fast approaching orgasm.

"Oh, Maura," Jane panted heavily. "God, Maura."

"Феелс Со Гоод," Maura husked again, dragging her lower lip against Jane's flesh. Jane's nipples rubbed against the fabric of the designer dress. The threads themselves were soft, satin-like, but the intricately woven pattern added texture that continued to brush and tease her hardened buds in a pleasurable manner second to Maura's skin. Jane's walls clenched around the blonde's fingers; Maura kept stroking.

"Maura," Jane whispered in a labored breath, "Maura," a hand tightened in Maura's hair, the other gripping her hip. Jane gasped as Maura immediately slowed her strokes to a glorious torture, or had she stopped completely, Jane couldn't tell. Her body continued to hum; she had actually started to shake. The hand on Maura's hip, traveled down the back of Maura's thigh, caressing the soft, toned flesh. More Serbian peppered her neck. Jane hungrily slid her hand back up Maura's thigh, under the hem of her dress and to the unclothed swell of Maura's backside. Jane gave her a rough squeeze and hissed, "Se non si inizia a parlare inglese," she began kneading the flesh as her other hand cupped Maura's magnificent backside, "ho intenzione di metterti sul banco," the Italian falling from the brunette's lips caused Maura to tremble, "e vaffanculo senza senso."

Maura gasped and managed to press against Jane's clit. She gyrated her hips forward, pressing against her hand buried inside of Jane. She pressed a heated kiss on Jane's lips.

"E 'meglio," Maura said. Jane shuttered in pleasure as Maura's full lips danced across her as she spoke. Maura's fingers began a quicker tempo. Jane pulled Maura fully against her.

"Uh, Maura," Jane's voice stoked the fire burning within Maura, her fingers began to move faster, her mouth sought a stray nipple. Jane's back arched, pressing herself into Maura's mouth. She brought her left hand to Maura's head, gingerly encouraging the doctor's ministrations. Maura's free hand slipped behind Jane and held her. She switched her attention to the other nipple, suckling and licking as her eyes closed.

"Maura I'm so close," Jane managed to whimper. Maura slowed again, Jane growled in frustration.

"Would you like to finish fast and manic," Maura asked as she began a feverish tempo. Jane moaned and called out. Maura kissed the nipple and paused, "Or slow and eloquently, riding the waves of orgasm for," she took the nipple in her mouth and swirled her tongue around it, "two minutes." Jane groaned and laughed, then moaned as Maura began moving again.

"I don't believe you," Jane challenged. Maura kept her fingers slow, painfully so. Maura laughed.

"Even during sex you're stubborn," she said, her hot breath tickling Jane's face. Jane opened her eyes and looked at Maura. Her breath left her as Jane looked at her with eyes so full of emotion, lust, and love; she swallowed.

"I believe this is making love, Doctor Isles." Maura's mouth fell open in astonishment, tears coming to her eyes. Jane's hands came to cup her face.

"I love you so much Maura." Jane pulled her in for a kiss, and such became the epitome of Jane's words. Maura returned it fully, pouring her heart and soul into her actions, into the kiss, into their lovemaking. She continued slowly, building Jane's orgasm.

"I love you Jane," Maura said in-between kisses.

"I love you," _kiss _"I love you," _kiss_ "I love you."

Jane tensed and inhaled sharply, her walls seized and her muscles drew taut. Her orgasm didn't rip through her like an explosion of consuming white heat, all to shortly lived, as it had the previous night. Instead, the heat lingered and radiated throughout her body, the streams of pleasure coursing through her never losing intensity. It was paralyzing.

"Oh God Maura!" Jane cried out, trembling as wave after wave crashed over her. Her toes curled and she held tightly onto Maura. Maura pressed herself into Jane, supporting her as she continued to orgasm. The nimble fingers of the doctor never ceased massaging the aroused, sensitive flesh.

"I love you," she whispered into Jane's ear.

A few more waves held Jane in place, as soon as she could move she grabbed Maura and kissed her.

"I love you," Jane said in return. "I love you, Maura."

Maura slowed her actions to a halt but didn't remove her hand. Jane panted heavily against Maura as she kissed her. In their haze, Maura heard a distant door close. She pulled back, her fingers leaving Jane, suddenly and all too soon. The detective groaned in protest and grabbed Maura's wrist in surprise.

"Jane, your-" Jane's eyes went wide in realization. In a gasp of surprise, she threw herself to the floor, grabbing her t-shirt and frantically tried to pull it over her head.

The backdoor flew open.

"Maura! Frankie said Jane's not at her place!"

"Mrs. Rizzoli," Maura tried to interject.

"Have you seen her?! Is she here?!" Mrs. Rizzoli rushed into the house.

"I'm right here Ma," Jane said as she stood from the floor.

"Oh my God, Janie!" Mrs. Rizzoli gushed, running to her daughter. "Why didn't you tell me you were here?! Why were you on the floor, why-oh." Mrs. Rizzoli slowly relinquished the hug she had on her daughter.

"Ma, we we're just having breakfast," Jane said, "I'm just a little jumpy." Mrs. Rizzoli took in her daughter's flushed appearance.

"Jane makes an excellent breakfast," Maura grinned as she spoke. Mrs. Rizzoli sighed in relief as she turned to Maura. "She even heated up syrup." Maura said, her gaze unwavering from Jane's, as she slid her two fingers into her mouth and licked them clean. She smiled and shrugged her shoulders in delight. Jane watched mesmerized. "I really hate to go, but I have to get back to work, for everyone's sake," Maura quipped. Jane shook her head out of the trance.

"Wait!" She turned and grabbed the steel mug. "I made you one to go." Jane presented it to Maura, standing closer than normal. Maura smiled and looked up at Jane. She leaned in and gave her a grateful kiss.

"Thank you, Jane," Maura said demurely.

Jane smiled and watched as Maura headed to the door. "I have my phone." Jane's eyes sparkled with mirth as she watched the medical examiner leave. She let out a large sigh of contentment.

"Jane Clementine Rizzoli," Mrs. Rizzoli's voice spoke softly behind her. Jane blushed in embarrassment. She turned to her mother, her face wincing in uncertainty.

"Yeah, Ma?"

"Go get cleaned up and we can talk about whatever safety procedures need to happen," she smiled. "_And_ then we'll talk about you and Maura." Jane rolled her eyes and groaned.

"I don't want to hear it missy, go."

"Fine," Jane pouted and she headed towards to bathroom. Mrs. Rizzoli chuckled to herself and shook her head. Eyeing the pancakes Jane had made, her eyebrows raised. She reached towards the plate.

"And don't touch my pancakes," Jane hollered from down the hall. Mrs. Rizzoli sneered playful at the wall as she rolled the pancake and dipped it in the syrup.

"'Bout time she got her head out of her ass," Mrs. Rizzoli remarked before taking a bite of the forgotten meal.


End file.
